Hold on to Me
by myeyesareasblueastheocean
Summary: Deals with the aftermath of "Stan by Me" but goes AU very quickly. Deals with mentions of Rape, etc. Will be updated at least weekly.
1. Chapter 1

_Thunk._

The sound of the metal shovel in Mary's hand hitting the wall in front of the staircase made her jump back slightly-she had expected to hear the crack of a skull. She saw Stan, ducking from her misguided blow, and Marshall's shocked look as he came to back up his boss against the perpetrator with the shovel. His eyes met her eyes, as he understood what had happened.

Mary was numb and her heart was galloping in a desperate attempt to push blood through her extremities and brain. The adrenaline she had in her system from the fight was gone. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she felt the last of her energy leave her. Somewhere in the back of her brain she knew that she was safe, but her instincts wouldn't let her move or get help. They told her to run, but her body protested. Then she felt the arms around her body and inhaled the scent of the one thing that would calm her- Marshall. She leaned into his embrace, as her body slowed itself down more.

Marshall let her go; he knew she needed to get help, to be checked over. Her body was shaking, and her legs felt like jell-o. She took a step towards Stan and the staircase. The world wobbled, and arms-this time from Marshall and Stan- grasped her. Together they walked her up the stairs and out to the waiting paramedics.

She sat down in the back of the ambulance, with help from Marshall, and the medic started checking her over. Mary gave Marshall a look that said she needed a little privacy. He nodded and walked over to Stan who was waiting by his SUV.

"Did she say what happened to her?" inquired Stan McQueen.

"She didn't say. But I'm guessing it wasn't good," replied Marshall. His heart ached for her. He knew that this would have a lot of repercussions, both personally and professionally. Mary was going to have a long road ahead of her, and it had just begun. He made a promise to himself- that he would never let her walk it alone.

About fifteen minutes later, the medic walked over to Marshall and Stan.

"It doesn't look good. I suspect she's been drugged. She needs to go to the hospital." Marshall nodded his head to indicate that he understood.

The medic continued, "I also think she's been assaulted."

Marshall felt a wave of fury at this. His teeth gritted as he spun around and punched the window of his SUV. The glass cracked, and yet Marshall wasn't satisfied- he wanted to kill someone.

"She's not talking, so it would be great if one of you could come with…" The medic looked questioningly at both of them.

Stan spoke up, "You go. You know her best, and you're our best chance of her talking. And get that hand checked out." He motioned to Marshall's now swollen hand.

"You sure?"

"Yes. I can't have you around here. You'll be distracted. I need to get this guy, and we can't afford any screw ups."

Marshall nodded silent thanks, and followed the medic back to Mary. If he thought she looked bad when they had come to the basement, it was nothing compared to now. The paramedics had cleaned up her face, and now Marshall could see the bruises on her cheek and forehead. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were red and filled with an eerie blankness. Mary was shaking, but otherwise showed no indication she was alive.

"Mare?" He put a hand on her shoulder and instantly regretted it when she started. "We need to take you to the hospital. Is that okay?"

She just looked at him like the lost little child she had always been. The paramedic and Marshall helped her lay down on the gurney; they strapped her in as the ambulance took off towards the hospital.

Marshall held her hand through the doctor's examination, not watching what the MD was doing, but turned towards Mary's face. She kept a stoic appearance up, and refused to cry. Marshall was amazed at his exotic creature- she never failed to astound him. And yet, Mary refused to look him in the eye, instead choosing a spot upon the ceiling. He feared that his Mary- his beautiful, insane, witty best friend- was gone forever.

A silent tear slipped down his face.

The doctor approached Marshall while he was out in the waiting room an hour later.

"Marshall Mann?"

He nodded an affirmative.

"I'm sorry that I have to give this news. Ms. Shannon, she is your partner?"

He nodded again.

"She was drugged with GHB and LSD."

"But wouldn't the LSD effects cancel out those of the GHB?"

"You're a smart man. Yes and no. Her rapist gave her GHB to sedate her. It slowed down her heart too much. My guess is that he realized this, and then gave her LSD so she wouldn't go into asystole."

"So she'll be fine."

"That much drugs in a person screws with them. They don't cancel each other out- the patient will go through periods of anxiety and periods of lethargy until the drugs wear off."

"Ok. I'm guessing she's staying here for observation?"

"I wouldn't recommend it. She needs to be in someplace she feels safe. Hospitals don't instill a sense of calm for certain people."

"I'd like to see her." He was getting antsy. Marshall felt the need to be next to her and help her.

The doctor motioned for him to follow, and after a series of doors and corridors which left the Marshal slightly dizzy, they approached a room.

Mary was lying under the covers, in a hospital gown. She was curled up on her side and still not crying. By the looks of her hair, she had yet to take a shower.

"Mary, I'm going to take you home, okay?" He spoke softly. He turned to the young doctor next to him, "Can I have her clothes?"

The doctor mouthed the word "Evidence," and Marshall nodded back.

"I'll go get her some scrubs to go home in. And maybe a nice clean pair of socks."

The doctor left the room and Marshall walked over to Mary, who hadn't moved. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and was happy that she didn't flinch or try to push him away. His hand continued down her cheek and under her chin.

"We'll get through this Mare, we always do."

The doctor came back a few minutes later and set down the scrubs. Before he could excuse himself out of the room, Marshall asked his name.

"Dr. Corne."

"Dr. Corne, thanks for all your help." The doctor nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Marshall grabbed the scrub pants and walked over to her hospital bed. He helped her stand up, and looked into her eyes.

"Do you trust me?" He asked. The marshal didn't want her to freak out because this was so much more personal than holding her hand. She nodded and took a deep breath in. The first word that she had spoken to him all day spilled out in a whisper.

"Yes."

He nodded and squatted down by her feet while her hands came to rest on his shoulders. One by one, he placed the bare legs into the pants. He didn't look at her while pulling the pants up, knowing. Marshall knew that her underwear was collected for evidence and that she was naked and exposed under her hospital gown. He felt a pang of sadness hit him in the chest as he fixed his eyes on the ground and finished placing the garment upon her hips.

Marshall stood and tied the pants around her slender frame, careful not to seem as if he were lingering. He helped her turn so her back was facing away from him, again preventing her from feeling too bare. Loosening the knot, he observed the bruises along her back and tutted in disgust. She was topless now, and he saw the goose-bumps flare across her skin. Quickly, he pulled the scrub top down over her head, and helped her get her arms through the armholes. He removed both jackets from his own back and draped them over her shoulders, once again making sure she was situated and buttoned and zipped. She sat on the bed, and he placed the socks upon her feet.

"Come on, let's go home." One arm locked itself under each one of her knees, and almost out of instinct, her arms looped around his neck. Her head buried itself in the scent of his collar on his shirt. And like that, Marshall carried Mary out of the hospital.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so so very much for the reviews. It really inspires me to keep moving. I'm not the **_**best **_**writer, but I am trying to improve. I know a lil OOC was bouncing around in the reviews, and here is my take on it. Mary was already almost crying when she was talking to Stan and Marshall at the end, and it was because she was only **_**almost **_**raped. I feel, that since she was drugged twice, raped, etc, she should obviously be in a more devastating state. Please continue to voice your opinions, as it really does help me figure out where my strengths and weaknesses are. Did anyone see the show this week? Was the ending not horrible? **

Mary was buckled safely into the passenger seat, looking out the window. Marshall was pretty sure she was crying, but he received no outward sign. So they sat in silence as he drove her out of the hospital parking lot (Stan had an SUV dropped off for them), and through the city of Albuquerque.

Mary wasn't crying, even though she knew that her façade would not last. She was watching the scenery change as they drove through downtown. People were pouring out of night clubs, laughing and probably very intoxicated. She didn't know how people could be so cheerful when she felt like crap. "That's how its been my whole life," she thought, "People have fun, and I am too busy being the grown up in my household." She didn't want to go home. Mary knew that the tenants would yell at her, and not give her the ounce of security or privacy she needed. Her mind drifted, almost seamlessly from her dysfunctional family to the events of the evening. She tried to block it out- she wasn't quite sure whether she would be able to process it. Mary decided that it would have to wait, owing to the fact that she didn't want to vomit in Marshall's SUV.

He got her home safely, and carried her into her house. With her still in his arms, he walked straight into her bathroom, set her down upon the closed toilet, and started warm water in the shower. Marshall stepped out of the bathroom with the murmured statement of, "Let me know if you need anything," as she started to shed the jackets and scrubs.

He walked into her kitchen and opened up the fridge. Marshall sighed as he saw a bottle of vodka and some suspicious looking leftovers. The story was even worse in the pantry. "What does she eat all day?" He questioned aloud. He called up Stan.

"Hey."

"How's the case coming?"

Stan gave a noncommittal grunt. "It's…sucking, actually. The FBI have no leads, we have no leads. We don't need Mary in here." Stan had given this last comment before Marshall could open his mouth. "Her statement can't really help us at this point. CSI is working some trace, but we won't have results for hours. Typical."

"Mary's alright. She's showering now. I planned on making something for her to eat. The girl is pretty much skin and bones at this point."

"Probably because the parasites."

"You mean the alcoholic and the druggie?" Marshall only hid his disgust when Mary was around about her family.

"Yeah, them. They probably eat all the food before she even sees it. I'm guessing this was why you called?" Stan said with a slight smile on his face.

"Would you mind? Just something like chicken soup, bread. Mild enough not to make her sick… saltines, Sprite, etc. I would, but I don't want to leave her here alone."

"Not a problem. You take care of her," and then Stan was off the phone. Before Marshall could marvel his bosses comment, he heard a clatter coming from Mary's bathroom. Gun drawn, he sprinted silently down the hall, his heart pounding wildly. What if Spanky had gotten back inside the house to finish her off?

Marshall creaked open the door and peaked inside. Within milliseconds, his gun was back in its holster, and he was inside the tiny blue bathroom. His eyes watered at the sight.

Mary, who had been in the shower, had thrown back the curtain and knocking off several bottles. Not having enough time to wrap her towel around herself, she had one foot inside the tub, and another standing on the shag carpet. Mary was doubled over at the waste, dry heaving into the toilet.

Marshall came over to her, and quickly gathered her hair out of the way. His free hand came up to rub her back. He whispered sweet nothings to her as she continued to heave. After what seemed like hours to Mary, she felt the sobs rise in her chest. Turning into Marshall and clutching fistfuls of his shirt, she released the unshed tears of the past day's events. His arms wrapped protectively around her.

Once her sobs had quieted down, Marshall reached over to her towel rack and grabbed a couple that looked the cleanest. Even though she wasn't wet now, he wrapped one around her body and another he used to drape over her shoulders.

She was looking at him now, obviously not really caring that she had just hugged the _man_ that she had _feelings_ for while butt naked. Mary was just happy that he was able to be around her at all, let alone helping her cope.

"Thanks." She murmured.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He questioned cautiously.

"No." She stated simply, and he left it at that.

"Okay. I'll grab you some clothes." She followed him out of the bathroom and sat down upon her bed. Marshall flitted around in her dresser and closet and came back with a pile of clothes. She dressed in them without even waiting for him to completely leave the room.

Mary walked down the hallway and saw Marshall answering the door to Stan, who handed over a grocery sack. They exchanged a few low, worried statements, before her boss noticed her. He smiled. She pulled a smile that felt awkward upon her face. He shouldn't have to worry because she was being weak.

"You did us proud today, Mary." Stan smiled again at her, and gave a sign of leave to Marshall. The young man closed the door behind him, as he turned to Mary.

"I was going to make you chicken soup, but if you aren't that hungry or whatever, I think Stan bought some saltines, and pop."

"Crackers and pop sounds good." It was the first muti-word sentence she had spoken yet that evening.

Marshall, five minutes later, presented her with a plate full of crackers and a cup of Sprite as she sat upon the couch flicking through channels. He sat down upon the opposite end of the couch. She stopped on CNN, and decided that she was lucky to be alive, unlike some of the people who would be on the early morning report. Mary glanced out the window and saw that it was indeed morning- she could see the rays of sunlight pierce through the trees that lined the property next to hers. A piece of the reporter's monologue pierced her thoughts.

"…an agent for the FBI was kidnapped last night. Police are on the search for the abductor, but the agent has been safely rescued. No comments on what happened to cause this or why the same agent was later seen at the hospital…."

Mary hadn't moved, and Marshall hadn't dared to breathe.

"This abduction is under investigation as to the death of a …" the news reporter rattled off the name of Mary's attacker with an almost careless and fake voice.

Marshall reached for the remote and jabbed the power button once. Mary still hadn't responded to the television.

"Mare?" Marshall asked tentitavely. Her head slowly turned to him.

"Marshall?" It was as if she had finally seen he was there, "…I killed someone. I killed him and Chuck…I killed-", but before she could continue, her body was doubled over the end of her couch. This time, she didn't dry heave. Vomit splattered the floor, as Marshall crawled over to her and gathered her hair up. By the time she was done, she didn't have the energy to cry, or even wipe her face. Marshall removed his shirt and used it to wipe her face of sweat and bile.

"Maybe it would be best if you laid down for awhile?" Marshall lifted her up off the couch and carried her away from the stagnant smell. He placed her upon the bed and tucked her into the blankets. His hand came up to tuck a stray strand of hair out of her face. Mary's eyes flitted to his face. "I'm gonna be on the couch if you need anything."

"Marsh?"

"Yeah, Mare?"

"Could you…Would you…" she struggled to find the right words, "Hold on to me?"

"Not a problem." He removed his shoes and belt, set his badge and gun down upon her nightstand and climbed into bed next to her. She laid her head upon his chest, but it instantly came back up.

"This won't do. Change into pajamas. Raph's are in the drawer on the right. Farthest one down."

Marshall begrudgingly got out of bed and with a crinkled nose changed into a pair of stripped pj pants and took of his dress shirt, so he was in a wife beater tank top. Mary shifted so she was curled up on her side. Marshall formed his body to her's and his arm came across while his hand placed itself on her stomach.

"Where are Jinx and Brandi?" she asked, as if she had just known they weren't home.

"Down at the Sunshine building. Stan talked to them, and explained that the FBI was looking into you for this."

Mary's teeth clenched in anger. Marshall's hand rubbed her arm.

"It's okay. Tomorrow, or whenever you're up to it, we'll figure this out. Don't worry….Do you want me to call Raph? Let him know what's going on."

"No. He…won't get it."

"Goodnight, Mare. I'll be here when you wake."

Mary nodded and felt the rush of exhaustion sweep over her body. She was emotionally drained, but had no time to dwell on the past day's events. Her eyes were already closed.


End file.
